


A Long Day

by Haley3



Series: Flat Dreams inspired [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst and Feels, Brothers with problems, Flat Dreams AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haley3/pseuds/Haley3
Summary: Bill didn't lose his brother because of the Inspection and they grew up together in their old home. But their life is not as happy as it was supposed to be.Based on the wonderful Flat Dreams.





	A Long Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Flat Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062122) by [PengyChan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PengyChan/pseuds/PengyChan). 



> Finally, I have translated my first oneshot inspired by the wonderful Flat Dreams. It took me THREE DAYS so, well, I hope I'll improve by translating the others.
> 
> Also, the wonderful Pengychan, was so kind to read and correct my mistakes. Thank you again! <3

 

 

_What a day._

Bill came back home, a hand already raised to pull off his jacket, while his foot hit the door to close it. His eye was burning from exhaustion; he closed it and saw the two Octagons again, arguing in his shop. They kept screaming so much, that all clients had flown away. When he had tried to calm them down and convince them to get out, one of them had pushed him away.

_“Mind your own business, Triangle”_

Bill opened his eye. Anger was rising again, a wave that made his arms and legs shake. He threw his jacket on the floor and launched the hat against the coat-rack. He missed by half a meter, the hat hit the wall and fell on the floor.

With a puff, he marched into the kitchen and pushed the chair in the middle of the room. Well, he may be a Triangle, but he had any right to intervene: those two troublemakers were ruining his business! If they wanted to argue, they could’ve done it outside!

Bill took a glass from the sink and slammed it on the table. He opened the doors of the cabinet: gin was finished, as well as martini. There was only half a bottle of whiskey left. Better than nothing.

He tilted it and drank, ignoring the glass. Alcohol covered his anger and pushed it down to the bottom. He dropped into the chair and drank again. That stupid glass annoyed him: he threw it on the floor.

The sound of a lock clacking came from the entrance. The door opened, with the usual swing. One step, the sound of the walking cane, another step, the cane again. Bill tightened his grip on the bottle, tensed in listening.

The steps stopped. He must have noticed the jacket in the hallway and knew he was home already. He kept listening: a step, a cane, and a moan of pain.

Anger was rising again, despite the whiskey.

Bill sprang up and walked out of the kitchen in two steps, holding the bottle in his fist. He went to the entrance and saw his brother Liam, still wearing his jacket, trying to bend, his legs trembling for the effort, the weight loaded on the walking cane, and his arm reaching for the hat Bill had left.

“Damn.” Bill snapped. He approached Liam fast and grabbed his outstretched arm. “What pain does it cause you if it stays on the floor? Can’t you think of taking off your jacket and go sit down?”

“If you stopped throwing things on the floor every time you come back home…” Liam tried.

“I'd have picked up later,” Bill replied. "Just leave it there.”

He tightened the grip on Liam’s arm and helped him to stand up. Liam avoided his eye and tried to shift his weight on the walking cane, to not put his weight on him.

“Goddamnit, lean on me,” Bill snapped. “I can hold you up.”

With his help, Liam managed to straighten his legs. His gaze slipped on the bottle and the pupil rose to meet Bill’s.

“You were drinking again.”

“I’ll drink as much as I want.” Bill left his arm. “Go sit. What do you want for dinner?”

”You shouldn’t drink.”

“It's been a long day and I'm stressed out.”

He went into the kitchen, left the bottle on the table and opened the fridge. Only canned stuff. Oh, there was still some pot pie left. Perha...

Liam sighed and that sigh pierced right through him, awakening flows of irritation throughout all his form.

“For the love of Circles.” Bill slammed the door of the fridge and turned to look at him. “Don't you dare say that.”

Liam lowered his eyes, still standing in the kitchen’s doorway.

“But that’s the truth,” he replied, “I bring nothing but trouble.”

“You bring trouble when you repeat it all the _damn_ times!”

“I really wish I could be more helpful for you,” Liam continued, “The don’t pay me enough at work, so I cannot help you with the expenses. The Board comes every month to check and you always have to keep everything up to date.” He tapped the floor with the walking cane. “I can’t even help you by cleaning or going shopping.” He looked at him. “I’m a burden.”

“You’re annoying,” Bill replied. “I’ll tell you once again: the shop is enough to support us both. I don’t give a damn about the Board, since we’re good and respect the law. And I don’t mind cleaning or going shopping.” he moved a chair. “Now, sit.”

Liam reached the table and sat down.

“I can’t even help you with the…”

Bill grabbed a glass and slammed it so hard on the table, that his brother stopped halfway through the sentence. Liam turned to look at him, his eyes wide open from fear, and Bill leaned over to him.

“Liam,” he spelled, “Shut up.”

Liam kept quiet. Bill opened the fridge again, pulled out the pot pie and put it in front of him.

“Eat.”

“What about you?”

“I’m tired.” He grabbed the bottle. “I’m going in the study.”

 

* * *

 

“Bill…”

The voice came from somewhere, among his father's books. Bill mumbled. _Leave me alone. Another five minutes._

One hand shook him.

“Bill, you drank too much. Go to sleep.”

That voice made the anger rise again. _Why is he still awake?_

“Leave me awon… ne,” he drawled, “I sleep here.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch.”

“I’ll sleep wherever I want.” He put his arm on his eye. “That’sh my… howm”

“That’s also mine,”  Liam said. He took his arm and tried to pull him up. "Stand up, please.”

Irritation hit him like a wave. It was late, it was night-time and Liam should already be in bed: last time his form hurt all day, and Bill had to pick him up from work because the pain was so much, he couldn’t stand up by himself.

And then he was tired, had drunk and the couch was comfortable, why couldn’t he sleep there? Why would Liam bother him and try to pull him up, even if he was not able to?

“Ughhh,” he growled, “Fine.” He sat up on the couch. His head pulsed. “Urgh…”

Liam's hand appeared in his field vision and pushed it away. He knew he couldn’t hold him up, why he was still trying, damnit? Just to annoy him?

Bill stood up, swaying and Liam reached out for him, again.

"I can do it, knock it off." He waved a hand to the door. "Go to sleep.”

“Not until I see you in your bed.”

That reproach annoyed him even more.

“I’m forsht… forshty-five, don’t trea…” He held on to the wall. “I’m not a child anymore.”

"You’re drunk," Liam said. He touched his arm. “Come.”

"Stop it!" Bill straightened. “Commm… to sleep.”

He shook his head, blinked, and the room stopped swaying around. He outstretched his arm for Liam and they came out of the study together, with Liam struggling not to put his weight on him. Bill puffed and shook his arm - _lean on me!_ \- but his brother, stubbornly, kept much of his weight on the walking cane.

The door to Liam's room was open as usual. Passing in front of the hallway, Bill glanced up and anger went up again.

“You picked up the hat!”

Liam sighed, one of his annoying, martyr-like sighs.

“You always leave everything lying around.”

"I told you I would have ... I would have taken it later!" He snapped. He tightened his grip on his brother’s arm. “Do as I tell you, for once!”

“Billy…”

Liam's eye was wide open, the pupil widened by fear. Bill left his arm and Liam leaned with both his hands on the cane.

“Go.” He nodded towards the door. “Go to sleep.”

“Billy…”

“ _Go to sleep!_ ”

Limping as fast as he could, Liam reached the room and entered, shuffling a foot for fatigue, wheezing.

Bill rubbed his eyes with both hands, trying to push the rage down to the bottom, always on the bottom. He marched into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

"I'm so sorry." Liam lowered his eye, looked down at his folded hands. “You had to close the shop early because of me.”

Bill rolled his eye and sighed.

"It is not your fault," he replied. "We knew that the Board would come in a week. At least this time they warned us first before just showing up on our doorstep.”

“But you had to close the shop early…”

"That means tomorrow I will open early," Bill said. He picked up a book on the floor and brought it back to the studio. On the couch, the neck of an empty bottle popped up behind the pillows: Bill pulled it out and tossed it in the kitchen.

"Can I at least help you doing something?" Liam asked.

"I've already told you I can do it by myself," Bill repeated for the third time. "The house is always in order, five minutes and I'm finished." He took the jacket and tie from the back of the chair and went out the kitchen, headed to the bathroom.

Luckily when he left Liam hadn’t already gone at work and had been able to answer the Board's call. If no one had answered phone, if Pentagons and Hexagons had come to the doorstep, rang the doorbell and nobody had answered…

Bill got a jolt at the mere thought. The monthly visits would become a distant memory. They would have placed a Hexagon in the house, to control his and Liam’s every move and to make sure they did comply with the law. Liam would be escorted to work, he at the shop. Every evening he should present a report with Liam's measures. And Liam was too ashamed to let himself be measured.

Bill slammed his jacket and tie in the washer dryer. The assholes from Upper Classes didn’t give a shit about their jobs and working hours: when the Commission called, they had to answer.

Liam had to call at work because he couldn’t come due to the Board’s visit and his boss had replied with a "Double shift tomorrow".

Bill sighed: double shift meant that Liam would be torn up, sore and unable to get up by himself. So he had to go and get him back home.

Bill went to the bedroom and gathered all the dirty laundry. He looked out and pointed to Liam's room.

"Do you have something to wash?" He asked.

"No, don’t think so," Liam replied from the kitchen.

Bill went in his brother’s room anyway and, as soon as he walked in, his eyes immediately fell on a dirty jacket thrown on the bed.

“Never mind, wise guy,” he replied. He put the jacket with other dirty clothes, cleaned up the bedside table, stacked the books Liam left lying around.

One of the books slipped from his hand and fell behind Liam's bed. Bill huffed: did that book really have to go right back there?

He bent on his knees and fumbled with a hand. His fingers touched something: Bill stretched out his arm as much as he could and grabbed the corner of the cover. He pulled it out and clung to the wall to get back on his feet, scratching against the wallboards. One gave in under his touch, offering him a better grip.

Bill straightened himself and slammed the elusive book on the shelf. Half of the board was loosened. _This house is falling apart_. And it was just above Liam's bed: last thing they needed was a loosened board just falling on him while he slept.

He wanted to put the board back in place, when the light touched something behind it. Bill pulled it just a little and the board went off completely, revealing a secret compartment full of books.

Books? Bill blinked. Why did Liam hide books? He had his own bookcase, shelves, desk, even a whole library in the studio.

"Bill?" Liam called from the kitchen.

Bill ignored him, pulled out a book and turned it over.

_“Theory about the existence of light_ ”

“Bill?” Liam's voice was more high-pitched. Bill pulled out another book.

_“On the existence of the Third Dimension_ ”

A chair scratched on the ground, Liam's irregular footsteps. Bill opened the book.

_“... a place where Classes do not exist, all beings are equal and the laws of our ancestors do not make sense”_

Steps were approaching, faster, more chaotic, the cane hitting harder on the floor

_"... as the Circles strive to hide it, there is no shadow of doubt that there is a world outside of our Flatland that possesses these elements: the Third Dimension"_

“Bill!”

Bill turned, the book still in his hand. Liam was on the doorstep, a hand clasped on the cane, the other clinging to the door frame, his knees trembling with fatigue, his whole form panting from the effort.

Bill lifted the book he held in his hands.

“This.” He pointed to the book and the niche in the wall. “What is this?”

Liam's eye widened even more. He continued to pant and his knees trembled. He had to sit down, he could not stand up all that time.

Bill stood straight to look at him, the book tight in his hands.

"Yo... youth dreams," replied Liam, hesitating. "It doesn’t matter.”

Bill tightened his grip on the book and lifted it again.

"What is this?" he repeated.

Liam stepped into the room. He stumbled forward, and clung to the walking cane with trembling arms. Held a hand out.

"I was young, Billy," Liam said, "and I was lonely. I didn’t know if I would ever pass the Inspection for my Irregularity… those were just hopes and dreams…"

The book was heavy in his hands, the other books were watching him from the secret compartment.

“Tell me the truth,” Bill said, “How many of these theories are true?”

Liam withdrew his hand. His trembling eye passed from Bill's book to the hiding place in the wall. Book, compartment, book, compartment.

“Bi…”

“Answer and tell me the truth or _I swear on Circles_ …!”

“All of them,” murmured Liam. “All of them.”

All of them.

Bill lowered the book and put it on the bed. _"There is no shadow of doubt that there is a world outside of our Flatland" "A place where the laws of our ancestors do not make sense"_

All of them.

“Bill…“ Liam's voice was overflowed with tears. “Please…”

"There’s a different world." Bill kept his eye on the books. “A different reality. No stupid rules. No stupid Classes.” He turned to Liam. “And you hid all of this from me.”

Liam was crying and trembling, clinging to the walking cane.

“I was young…”

“YOU HID ALL OF THIS FROM ME!”

Bill rushed towards him and grabbed him by the sides. Liam squinted his eye, new tears rolling down, his cane fell to the ground.

 “Why haven’t you ever told me this?” he yelled. "BECAUSE OF YOU I’VE SPENT AN ENTIRE LIFE FOLLOWING THE RULES OF THIS STUPID WORLD, WHEN OUT THERE THERE’S SO MUCH MORE!”

"I was young!" Liam sobbed. "Those were beautiful dreams! I thought I was going to die! B-but then, when I passed the Inspection, I was so grateful…”

Anger swept him in a wave.

“Grateful?” Bill replied. “GRATEFUL? THEY FORCED YOU INTO A SHITTY JOB, DESPITE YOUR BIG BRAIN! YOU MUST SUBJECT YOURSELF TO INSPECTIONS EVERY MONTH!” Bill shook him. “YOU FORCED ME TO LIVE IN THIS CAGE!”

"But it’s our world..." Liam cried. "Our house… I-I didn’t want to ruin your life! These are dangerous books, th-that’s why I’ve hidden them”

“YOU HID SOMETHING LIKE THAT FROM ME! FROM YOUR OWN BROTHER!”

“I-I-I wanted you to be happy…”

“HAPPY?” Bill shook him harder. “DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU?”

Liam trembled, his eye wet with tears. Bill shook him, trembling in turn.

"Why?" he shouted with a screeching sound. "WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER?"

Liam kept crying. Bill let him go and his brother collapsed to the floor, his hands pressed on the eye, holding in vain the overflowing tears.

Bill stood, hands limp down his sides. The room’s walls clenched around him, the world’s walls clenched around him.

He walked out of the room, dragging his feet, floating as if in a dream, toward the kitchen. He opened the doors of the cabinet and took a bottle of liquor.

He opened it and drank it. Alcohol covered his anger and pushed it down to the bottom, more and more to the bottom of himself.


End file.
